Leonard Refused to Believe Ira Was His Daughter, Distrustful Due to Rumours About Vera’s Flirtations at the Shop—He Never Loved His Fragile Child, But Grandpa Matthew Cherished Her, Left Her His Countryside House, and Predicted She’d Find Happiness There Ira Was Loved Only by Her Grandfather During her childhood, delicate little Ira was often ill. Leonard would insist, “No one in our families is this tiny! How could she be mine?” His indifference passed on to her mother, Vera. Grandpa Matthew, a retired forester living at the village’s edge near the woods, was the only one who cared for Ira. Locals found him odd; his predictions often came true, and they sought his herbal remedies. With his wife gone, the forest and Ira were his comfort. She mostly lived with him, learning about healing plants and dreaming of becoming a nurse, even as her mother claimed there was no money for school. Grandpa reassured her, promising help even if it meant selling the cow. Grandpa’s Will Promises Home and Fortune Vera rarely visited her father, but appeared when her son lost money gambling. Grandpa refused to pay the debt: “I’m not covering for Andrew’s mistakes—I need to support my granddaughter.” Furious, Vera shouted she’d disown her family and stormed off. Only Grandpa helped Ira attend nursing college, and her scholarship supported her studies. Before she graduated, Grandpa fell ill. He reminded Ira he’d left her the house, advising her to find work in town but keep the home alive—“Stay in the house and happiness will come to you,” he predicted. Grandpa Matthew’s Prophecy Came True After Matthew died in autumn, Ira commuted from the city hospital to maintain her grandfather’s home. One snowy weekend, a young man named Stan knocked, his car stuck outside. After helping dig him out, Ira invited him for tea, and Stan was charmed by her courage. Their acquaintance grew, and Stan offered Ira a lift to the district center. Soon, Stan surprised Ira with a visit, joking that her herbal tea must be magical because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. There was no wedding—Ira declined—yet sincere love blossomed. Stan was devoted, carrying her in his arms as she read about in novels. When their first son was born, nurses marvelled that such a tiny woman had a strapping baby boy. Ira named him Matthew, in honour of her beloved grandfather.

John stubbornly refused to believe that Lucy was his daughter. My mother, Grace, worked at the local shop. Rumours floated around the village that shed often disappear into the back storeroom with other men, shutting the door behind them. Thats likely why father never really believed that the tiny Lucy was his. He didnt warm to the child. The only person who truly cared for Lucy was her granddad, Peter, who eventually left his house to her in his will.

Granddad Peters love for Lucy
Lucy was often ill during her childhood. She was fragile and rather petite for her age. Theres no one that small in either of our families, John would grumble. That little mite is no more than a tot. Over time, his dislike towards Lucy infected her mother too.

Granddad Peter was the only one who truly loved Lucy. His cottage stood at the farthest edge of the village, right beside the woods. Peter spent his life working as a ranger, and even after retirement, he wandered the forest almost daily, picking berries and gathering medicinal herbs. During winter, he made sure the wild animals were fed. Folks considered him a bit eccentric, possibly even a touch magical, since whatever he predicted seemed to come true. Nevertheless, people came knocking for his herbal concoctions and remedies.

Peters wife had been gone many years. The woods and Lucy were his only comfort. Once Lucy began school, she spent far more time with Granddad than at home. He taught her the secrets of plants and roots, knowledge that came easily to Lucy. Whenever someone asked her what she wanted to be, shed reply, Im going to be a healer. But her mother would sigh that she couldnt afford Lucys education. Granddad Peter, however, always reassured her that he wasnt without savings and, in a pinch, could even sell the cow.

He left her the cottage and his blessing
Grace rarely visited her father, but one day she appeared at his door, asking for money after her son lost badly in a card game in the city. Andrew had been beaten and warned to find money somehow.

So now you come, only when youre in trouble? Peter asked sternly, You havent bothered with me for years! He flatly refused to help, saying, I wont pay off Andrews gambling debts. I need to save for Lucys future.

Grace was furious. I never want to see either of you again! I no longer have a father or a daughter! she shouted before storming out. When Lucy applied to the nursing college, neither parent gave her a penny; it was Granddad Peter who supported her, and her scholarship helped too since Lucy was doing well academically.

Before Lucy finished her course, Peter fell ill. Sensing his time was near, he told Lucy hed left her the house in his will. He instructed her to look for work in the city but always remember the cottage, saying it has a spirit so long as someone lives there. Dont be afraid to spend nights here alone; your fate will find you here, he predicted warmly. Youll be happy, my dear. It seemed as though he knew something.

Peters prediction came true
Peter passed away that autumn. Lucy took a job as a nurse at the county hospital, returning to Granddads cottage on her weekends. She would light the fire in the chill. Granddad had left more than enough logs to see her through. The weather was turning, dark and cold, and Lucy had two days off. She didnt feel like staying at the flatshe was renting a room from older relatives of a college friend.

That evening, Lucy arrived in the village just as a snowstorm started. Winds blustered through the night, and by morning the roads were buried. When there was a knock at the door, she hesitated, but opened it. Standing there was a young man shed never seen. Hello, he said, Im trying to dig my car out, got stuck just outside. Have you got a spade? Theres one by the porch, help yourself, Lucy replied. Would you like some help? The young man looked her up and down and smiled wryly, Dont fancy you getting lost in the snow with me.

He made quick work with the spade, managed to start his car, but barely made it a few metres before getting stuck again. Lucy invited him inside for a cup of tea in the warmth. No point battling the snow until it eases; the road will clear soon enough with all the traffic here, she said.

After a pause, the young man nodded and followed her indoors. Are you not nervous living out here on your own, by the woods? he asked. Lucy explained she came only for the weekends, worked in the city, and wondered if shed manage to leave, especially if the bus didnt come. The young man introduced himself as James; he also lived in the county town and offered her a lift since he needed to get back too. Lucy agreed.

After work, Lucy decided to walk home, but was surprised to see James waiting for her along the lane. Maybe your herbal tea really is magic, he joked, I couldnt resist seeing you again. Perhaps youll make me a second cup?

They never had a big wedding; Lucy didnt want one. James was keen at first, but in the end relented. What they did have was genuine affection. Lucy discovered that men really do cherish their wives, just as people say in books. When their baby was born, everyone at the hospital was amazed at how such a tiny woman could have such a healthy, strapping son! When asked what shed call her son, Lucy replied, Hell be Peter, after someone very dear to me.The villagers whispered about the little family at the edge of the woodsa woman who healed, a man whose car was always seen parked askew among the birches, and their sturdy, laughing son whose name carried the warmth of an old ranger. Each spring, Lucy planted herbs Granddad once showed her, scattering seeds along sunlit paths. She hung bunches to dry under the eaves, just as Peter had taught her, and neighbors still came for remedies and advice, the tradition happily unbroken.

As the years unfurled, Peter grew wild and fearless, darting across meadows with pockets full of berries and hands eager to learn every secret his mother could share. On snowy evenings, Lucy told him stories of the woods and the gentle grandfather whose memory lived in every log and leaf. Sometimes, Peter said he felt someone watching over him; Lucy only smiled and tucked an extra quilt around him, sure that the cottages spirit would never let them feel alone.

One crisp autumn, with gold leaves swirling, Lucy stood by the garden fence and felt the quiet joy of belongingnot only to James and their son, but to the place Peter had cherished. Wherever she went, she carried the gift her grandfather had given her: not just a cottage, but a legacy of love steadfast enough to grow and heal, even when the world didnt believe. And every now and then, when dusk settled soft and blue, Lucy swore she could hear Granddads voice in the wind, whispering, See? I knew youd be happy here.

It was true. She was.